


Stag Night

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-12
Updated: 2005-11-12
Packaged: 2018-10-26 15:37:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10789587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Weasley men and Harry go out to bid farewell to Bill's single life.Male bondingthat Harry never expected takes place.





	Stag Night

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

**Pairing** : Harry/Bill, unrequited Harry/Ron, implied Harry/Ginny

**Beta:** [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=hailiebu)[**hailiebu**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/hailiebu/)  
**Warning:** mentions of het  
**Summary** : The Weasley men and Harry go out to bid farewell to Bill's single life. _Male bonding_ that Harry never expected takes place.  
**A/N Notes** : This was written for [_The Boy Who Scored Challenge_](http://www.livejournal.com/users/reddwarfer/87279.html) \- issued by [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=reddwarfer)[**reddwarfer**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/reddwarfer/). Also, this is a sequel to [_Everything Starts as Somebody's Daydream_](http://www.livejournal.com/users/kerryblaze/86122.html). It probably should've been written in the same tense, but the muse wanted it this way and she can be real mean when she doesn't get her way!  
 

* * *

He looks around in shock from the moment he walks through the door. Harry never imagined that a place like this existed in the wizarding world. Walking through the sparse crowd of all-male patrons, he remembers a heated row between his guardians after Uncle Vernon had visited a place like this with one of his potential clients. Harry had only been nine, so words like _harlots_ , _tarts_ , and _whores_ didn't mean much for him at the time. He had been, however, sure that they were not _good_ things. Now, seeing the witch up on the stage who is wearing only a skimpy pair of knickers and doing things to a pole that make him blush, he inwardly chuckles at the picture of his ever so proper Uncle in an establishment like this.  
  
Five Weasley brothers settle in along the bar, as close to the girls on stage as they can get. Harry, terrified that one of the _dancers_ will approach him, stands closely behind Ron, who is clearly enjoying the show. Harry hasn't seen him act this way since their first encounter with Veelas.  
  
Ron turns excitedly to Harry, his pupils wide, making the blue ring around them, darker, more tantalizing. "This is better than any fantasy my mind could come up with!"  
  
Blushing when he thinks of his own [recent discovery](http://www.livejournal.com/users/kerryblaze/86122.html) regarding his own deeply buried fantasies, Harry nods, darting his eyes around the room. He needs to focus on something else – anything else. Looking at Ron sweaty and flushed and clearly turned on is _not_ giving him the erection of his life. It is _not_ making him wish that he is back in Ron's room at the Burrow on his knees. And he certainly is _not_ having a vision of Ron's hands twisted in his untamed black hair, pulling and urging him to suck harder… faster… As wicked words roll off Ron's tongue, making Harry's balls tighten and his cock twitch…  
  
"Having fun?"  
  
Harry jumps a little, startled from thoughts that he was definitely _not_ having in the first place. He turns around and finds himself face to face with the grinning bridegroom and guest of honor.  
  
"Um… er… I guess so," stammers Harry.  
  
Bill looks back in a way that makes Harry begin to fidget. Bollocks, was he staring at Ron too long? Does Bill know what he was thinking?  
  
"She's very pretty," comments Bill, pointing to a new addition to the stage.  
  
Trying to act more fascinated than he really is, Harry nods. "Yes, yes. Very, very pretty."  
  
"Ah-uh." Bill murmurs skeptically.  
  
"'Arry, mate! Come here," Ron says, leaning back to sling an arm around Harry's shoulders. With a quick jerk that rattles Harry's teeth, Ron pulls him forward until Harry is wedged between Ron and George. "Look at the tits and arse on this one!"  
  
"Jesus, Ron! They're not pieces of meat! Ya know?" snaps Harry. "They are sisters and best friends too. How would you like it if a bunch of randy blokes were drooling over Hermione and Ginny like that?"  
  
Ron stares at Harry as if he has lost his mind. Which at this point, Harry is fairly sure that he has.  
  
"Well, th-that's different! I mean looking at these birds is the point – isn't it?"  
  
"I think -" Bill says, stepping forward to grab Harry's forearm before he can respond with another startling outburst. "- that Harry here needs another drink. It'll help loosen him up a bit. First time in a place like this can be overwhelming."  
  
Bill urges Harry toward two chairs away from Ron, who looks confused and hurt. Before sitting, Bill signals the waitress to fetch them two more drinks.  
  
"What was that all about?" Bill asks after they have fresh drinks.  
  
"He's just so crude sometimes," Harry blurts out, cringing as he realizes that he sounds like a girl – or worse – Hermione.  
  
"Yeah," says Bill, nodding. "He talks before he thinks."  
  
Harry shrugs. Wishing for a change of subject, he gulps down his drink and calls the waitress over for another one.  
  
Bill leans back in the chair, looking content to just watch the scene in front of him rather than participate. Turning his attention back to the stage, Harry stares at the current stripper who is wearing a smaller, more revealing version of a England Quidditch uniform and _riding_ a broom without leaving the ground. He pictures kissing her. Cupping her breasts, licking them, capturing the nipples between his lips, before she kneels down and… Harry feels the tingle in his groin that indicates interest. Yes, focus on the girl and everything will be – Fuck! Without warning, the tall, lanky, redheaded, freckly person he is trying _not_ to think about, enters the vision, naked and hard, pressing up against Harry's back, grabbing the unnamed witches head and guiding her mouth to move along his cock exactly the way that he likes it.  
  
Placing his face in his palms, Harry takes a deep breath, pressing his fingers into his cheeks and raking them down as if he can peel off the thick fog that the second glass of Firewhiskey has placed over him, making his movements feel slow and slightly uncoordinated.  
  
Bill's voice echoes strangely in his head. "Harry, mate, you really need to relax."  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry says, attempting a smile. "I'm ruining _your_ night."  
  
"No worries, Harry," Bill responds casually. "I'm not into these types of birds anyhow. When you have someone like Fleur at home… Well, they really don't compete. Do they?"  
  
Harry shakes his head, sincerely. He is confused, but not _that_ confused. Fleur _is_ spectacular.  
  
"Then why are we here?" asks Harry.  
  
"It's more about male bonding than the women," Bill explains. "Nothing like watching your brothers make fools of themselves." He gestures towards the group. "Look at that lot."  
  
Harry looks on at Charlie having his face cuddled between a stripper's bare breasts as Ron watches with jealousy, and the twins sandwiching a waitress, dancing against her with exaggerated movements.  
  
Grinning despite himself, Harry sips his drink and settles in the chair. Bill moves his chair closer and strikes up a much more casual conversation of Quidditch talk. As the conversation progresses and more Firewhiskey is consumed, Harry feels his strange mood lift.  
  
A stripper saunters over to Bill and he shoos her away. Turning to Harry, he explains, "I promised Fleur that I wouldn't touch any women."  
  
"Only male bonding allowed?" Harry asks playfully.  
  
"Male bonding, right," Bill says slowly, an unrecognizable glint in his eye. "Yes, that is allowed."  
  
"Right," Harry says, looking around at the crowd of redheads. "Maybe you should be over there –" Harry cuts his sentence short as the waitress stops by to replenish their supply of drinks.  
  
Fred and George begin chanting Ron's name and Harry looks over and sees one of the girls crouching down on the bar to kiss a furiously blushing Ron on the head.  
  
The Firewhiskey helps take away the sting of jealousy as it burns a pleasant trail of wet heat down his throat to his belly.  
  
"How long have you known that you fancy blokes?"  
  
Liquid squirts from Harry's mouth, splattering his knees and shoes. Wordlessly, he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he is finally able to croak out, "I fancy girls!"  
  
"Sorted that out already, have you?"  
  
"Yes! I mean – I fancy girls - loads – and _only_ girls!"  
  
Bill raises an eyebrow. "Really? So, it's not blokes – _plural_. It's just my baby brother?"  
  
"No, it's not blokes," Harry retorts. Immediately realizing what he had said, he quickly adds a little too loudly, "And not Ron either!"  
  
At Harry's outburst of denial, Ron turns around and eyes him suspiciously.  
  
Slamming his glass down on the table, Harry stands up. "I have to go to the loo!" he announces, ignoring Ron's questioning stare and whatever that look is on Bill's face, and storms off.  
  
~~  
  
The effects of the alcohol seem to have doubled since Harry stood up. He's not fall down drunk, but his motor skills are undeniably being challenged. The cool water he splashes on his face from the faucet clashes against his burning cheeks which are a result of his embarrassment.  
  
Harry hears the door open behind him and looks into the mirror hanging above the sink. Bill, his scars looking ghostly pale in the harsh light of the bathroom, approaches Harry.  
  
Casually, he leans against the sink next to Harry. "Sorry, Harry," he says sincerely. "I forget sometimes what it was like to be your age."  
  
Harry dries his face on the last of the paper towels he pulled from the dispenser.  
  
"I don't… There is nothing to be –" Harry begins, but Bill cuts him off.  
  
"I only said something because I understand."  
  
"Understand?"  
  
"Yeah," Bill answers, crossing his long legs in front of him. "You're not the first bloke in the world to fancy both sexes."  
  
Harry's first instinct is to protest. He hasn't quite worked that out to be the truth. But he doesn't. He only stares back at Bill, blinking.  
  
"It's okay," Bill says, reaching out to place a hand on Harry's arm.  
  
"So… It's _normal_?" asks Harry, not really considering the question to be an admission.  
  
Bill scratches the stubble on his chin and chuckles. "For some of us, yeah, I guess it is."  
  
Harry's eyes grow wide. "Us?"  
  
"Us," Bill confirms, waving his hands between them.  
  
"Oh…." Harry breathes.  
  
"I like to think that we're lucky. Doubles the chances at –" Bill smiles and winks at Harry and Harry feels his chest tighten. "- not sleeping alone."  
  
Appalled at himself for blushing, Harry straightens his shoulders, suddenly feeling the urge to act older, more mature. "I didn't really think of it that way."  
  
"So, that's all I wanted to say," Bill announces, straightening up, looking as if he is about to leave.  
  
"Wait," Harry says, his voice cracking a little.  
  
He places a hand on Bill's upper arm. It's a tiny, ordinary gesture, but there is an intention there. One that Harry hopes he is conveying properly. Bravely, he takes a step forward, hoping he had read Bill's signals correctly. A few seconds ago, he hadn't even known that there was a possibility here. But now he wants it enough to take a risk. "Tell me," he says in a voice huskier than he had ever used before, even when he was trying to talk Ginny out of her knickers. "Exactly what kind of male bonding did you have in mind?"  
  
It happens so fast that he doesn't know who leaned in first, but suddenly Bill's mouth is on his. The kiss is slow and more lips than tongue. A warm, tickling feeling spreads from his stomach downward. Only their mouths are touching and Harry feels dizzy as the kiss begins to deepen. He doesn't know if it's from the Firewhiskey or the swell of passion inside of him, but he doesn't much care either way. He loses his balance and tips forward. Bill responds by wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him flush against his body. And that makes it even better, except that Harry's hard now and his erection is bent, trapped in his tight pants and jeans. It hurts, but he's too embarrassed to reach down and adjust it. He tries to do it nonchalantly, shifting his hips, and as he does this, brushes up against the prominent bulge in Bill's own jeans.  
  
Harry feels the rumble against his chest before he hears the soft groan filling Bill's mouth. Bill breaks away and Harry fears that he is going to stop, saying that they have gone too far. He's pleasantly surprised when Bill doesn't stop; instead, his mouth finds Harry's neck, sucking and nipping at it, his fang earring pressing up against Harry's cheek. Bill's hand pushes between their bodies and cups Harry's erection, straightening it.  
  
Harry gasps and pulls his hips back.  
  
"I'm sorry. If it's too much… too fast. We can stop." Bills voice is raspy, his words hot and moist against Harry's neck.  
  
Desperate, his actions driven by his newfound lust, Harry instinctively reaches around and cups Bill's arse, jerking him forward until their erections press together.  
  
Bill stares at Harry in surprise.  
  
"Does that answer your question?" Harry responds cheekily, hoping he sounds confident and suave.  
  
Grabbing Harry's hips, Bill kisses him again. This time it's heated, their tongues twisting and swirling frantically around each other. Bill starts to walk, urging Harry to walk backwards.  
  
Harry clutches Bill tighter. trying to keep his balance, he allows Bill to lead. At this point, he would let Bill lead him into a pit full of Death Eaters.  
  
He guides them to the last stall in the bathroom. Once the door is closed and locked, Bill spins Harry around, pinning him to the door. His hands are all over Harry, roaming under his shirt, teasing his nipples.  
  
Harry's cock feels like it is about to burst open wide. Whatever confusion, shame, guilt he had earlier about wanting to do _this_ with his best mate was long forgotten. Nothing had ever felt this fucking good. Not even when Ginny had allowed him to rub against her until he came.  
  
Bill finally breaks their kiss and runs his thumb over Harry's kiss bruised lips.  
  
"You're gorgeous. I want to touch you," whispers Bill as he unbuttons and unzips Harry's jeans, quite impressively one handed. Bill's large hand curls around Harry's cock and something between a moan and a squeak escapes from Harry's throat. He can't stop his body from demanding more; his hips jerk forward, driving Bill's hand down his shaft.  
  
Bill squeezes and Harry's head jolts back, banging his head on the door. There is no pain. There is no feeling anywhere else in his body except between his legs. It only gets better. Bill drops to his knees and sucks Harry into his mouth and it feels like his entire body shatters into a million little pieces and rushes out of his body, spurting out of his cock and into Bill's mouth.  
  
When the stars behind his eyes vanish, embarrassment settles over Harry. His first time with a man and he came before it even got started.  
  
"Oh, god, Bill… I'm so sorry. I –"  
  
Bill shushes him. He licks long, broad strokes around the shaft, avoiding the overly sensitive head. Harry looks down and watches in amazement as Bill's tongue and the fingers that are gently massaging his balls keep his erection from wilting. Soon he is fully hard again and fucking Bill's mouth.  
  
Releasing Harry with a soft pop, Bill stands. "Had to get one of those out of the way," he says, smirking.  
  
"I-I… Wow, that was amazing," Harry says breathlessly.  
  
Trying to cover up his stupid and immature remark, he grabs Bill's face and pulls him into a kiss, tasting himself on Bill's tongue while running his hands over Bill's body.  
  
He needs to use both hands to open Bill's trousers after an embarrassing attempt to imitate Bill's expert handling of him. It's not as strange as it thought it would be to have another man's cock in his hand. Bill shows more restraint than him, using the kind of self-control that comes with experience, allowing Harry to set the pace.  
  
"You're good at this, Harry," Bill whispers in his ear. "A natural. But I want more."  
  
Harry's hand stills on the cock in his hand as fear sets in. He wasn't thinking this far ahead. How far is he willing to go? He isn't sure.  
  
"More? Do you want to shag me?"  
  
Bill looks at him longingly, brushing away the sweat-soaked fringe from Harry's eyes. "Yes, but I'm not going to. It's not easy your first time. It'll hurt. That should be saved for someone special."  
  
"Okay." Harry nods, surprised that he is a tad disappointed.  
  
"I love Fleur, but –"  
  
"Fleur!" Harry exclaims, letting go of Bill's cock as if it is on fire. "What… This is… Will she…"  
  
"She knows. Like I said earlier, I promised not to touch a woman. As I was saying, I'll miss being fucked."  
  
"What do you want to – "  
  
The door to the bathroom opens and Bill clasps a hand over Harry's mouth. Harry's eyes widen, he had forgotten where they were. The whole situation is so surreal and he finds his lust becomes heightened at the thought of being caught.  
  
Bill leans in, places his mouth against Harry's ear and says in a voice barely above a whisper, "I want you to fuck me, Harry."  
  
Harry bites his lip, holding back the moan that Bill's words stir in him.  
  
Harry doesn't know when or where Bill got the tube of lubrication that he unscrews and squeezes onto Harry's fingers. The sound of running water fills the room as Bill lowers his pants and grabs Harry's hand, leading his lube slicked finger towards his entrance. This part Harry knows about, thanks to Fred and George's brilliant invention.  
  
Preparing Bill, knowing that someone was in the room, is scary and exciting and Harry is surprisingly disappointed when footsteps move towards the door and exit. The door barely clicks shut and Bill is spreading lube on Harry's cock.  
  
"I'm ready," Bill pants, turning around to face the other wall, waiting for Harry to take him.  
  
Harry wants to take his time. He wants to feel and explore the beautiful body in front of him. But he _needs_ to be inside of him. He needs to hurry up before someone comes in and interrupts them.  
  
Bill murmurs encouragement as Harry pushes inside of him.  
  
"Yes, Harry… It's okay… Faster. Oh… Fuck!"  
  
Bill looks gorgeous, flushed and sweaty, panting for more. Harry knew what he had pushed against. He keeps the angle, bites his lip for focus, and finds a steady rhythm, wanting to make Bill lose control and give him a proper farewell to single life.  
  
He finds it almost impossible. Bill's so tight, his body clenching and unclenching around him. Bill begins to moan deeply as Harry slams into him with a force that he didn't know that he had in him. He rests his head on Bill's shoulder and reaches around to stroke Bill to the rhythm of his thrusts.  
  
"God – feels so good – don't stop – don't fucking stop!"  
  
The cries bounce off the walls and echo in the room.  
  
"Come, Bill," Harry encourages. "I want to see you come."  
  
Bill tenses and Harry pulls Bill's head back by his ponytail, kissing him deeply.  
  
The door creaks open as Bill grunts and spills himself into Harry's hand.  
  
"Harry? Bill? Are you in here?" Ron's voice fills the room.  
  
The sound of Ron's voice fills him and the tension in Harry's groin unravels, sending him spiraling out of control. He stills and buries his face in Bill's neck, releasing himself, aching to cry out and scream to the world how fucking fantastic this feels.  
  
It's over in seconds, and Ron's footsteps grow louder in the room.  
  
'Fuck,' Harry mouths wordlessly, looking at Bill.  
  
'Trust me?' Bill's says without sound, exaggerating forming the words, so Harry would understand.  
  
Harry nods. He's desperate for Ron not to find out what had just happened and is willing to do whatever Bill wants.  
  
Swiftly, Bill extracts his wand from his pocket and silently casts a cleaning spell on both of them.  
  
Ron calls out again, getting closer to where they are. "Harry? Is everything okay?"  
  
Harry yanks his pants up as Bill does the same. Bill points his wand at Harry's chest. "Sorry," he whispers and Harry suddenly feels as if he can't stand, can't walk, can't talk; the world is spinning and not just in one direction, but going one way and then back the other.  
  
Snaking his arm under Harry's arm and around his back, Bill finally responds. "In here, Ron."  
  
Bill unlocks the door and drags Harry out of the stall. "Harry here has had a tad too much to drink," Bill says, attempting to hoist Harry to stand up straighter.  
  
Still able to see clearly, Harry watches Ron's face go from concern to amusement and back to concern again.  
  
"Why didn't you come get me?" Ron asks, moving to the other side of Harry and grabbing a hold of him. "It's alright," he says soothingly to Harry.  
  
"Gonna… be…" Harry manages to say before his stomach leaps up and pushes its contents streaming out of his mouth and onto the floor, his shoes, and some down his shirt.  
  
"Ugh! Mate, that's disgusting!" Ron exclaims, but doesn't let go. "Bill could you get me some towels?"  
  
"I don't think there are any in here," Bill says.  
  
"Then go get some," Ron snaps, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe you, Bill! You should know better. How much did you give him to drink?"  
  
"Jesus, Ron, you sound like Mum!" Bill retorts.  
  
Harry begins to slump when Bill releases him and Ron uses both his arms to hold him up. Even though Harry feels confounded ten times over, he feels safe and comfortable with Ron's arms around him. It amazes him that this feels more intimate than anything he had just done with Bill.  
  
Easing him down on the floor, Ron sits next to him, an arm thrown over his shoulder holding him up. "Bill'll be back in a minute and we'll get you cleaned up and take you back home."  
  
 _Home_. Harry wonders when he began to think of home as anywhere that Ron was.  
  
Bill returns with a handful of paper towels and hands them to Ron. Harry sees Bill trying to hide his smile as Ron cleans off Harry's face.  
  
"Aum ophay." Harry slurs the words sounding much clearer in his head.  
  
Chuckling, Ron tries to help Harry stand. "Do you think you could stomach the floo network?"  
  
Harry shakes his head causing the room to spin again. He prays for relief one second before the room goes black and relief comes in the form of unconsciousness.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry opens his eyes. Whatever spell Bill had cast has worn off and left behind - from either that or the real Firewhiskey he had consumed - a brain-squeezing headache.  
  
Groggily, he becomes aware of his surroundings and realizes that he is in Ron's bed. He looks around for Ron. Leaning over the edge of the mattress, he finds Ron asleep on the camp bed. Besides the headache, thoughts of Ron finding out about his liaison with Bill crush his brain.  
  
Rubbing his temples, he rests his head back on the pillow and replays the night's events in his mind. He spent years thinking about sex and it happened when he least expected with the most unlikely person in the most unlikely place.  
  
Ron stirs and mumbles in his sleep. Quietly, Harry slips out of bed and sits on the floor next to Ron, looking at Ron's back.  
  
"'Arry," Ron mutters, rolling over.  
  
"Yeah, Ron."  
  
Ron smiles sleepily. "I left stuff for a headache next to the bed."  
  
"Thanks," Harry answers.  
  
It crosses his mind that he should move, but he stays, leaning back to rest against the bed.  
  
"And thanks," Harry adds. "For – er - taking care of me."  
  
Ron props himself up on an elbow. "You're welcome. Though, you might want to know that Mum caught us sneaking back in. Bill and Charlie got an earful!"  
  
"Charlie? He didn't do anything!"  
  
"I suppose Mum figures he is older and should've been keeping an eye on you."  
  
Silence follows and Harry thinks it's a good time to drink down the headache potion.  
  
Ron settles back down, tucking the blanket under his arms. "Night, Harry."  
  
"I can sleep here," Harry says patting the floor. "This is your bed."  
  
"No. It's fine. I'm fine here. You're going to feel bad enough in the morning."  
  
Harry relents and crawls back into bed. Soon, Ron is snoring softly and Harry finds himself looking over the edge of the bed again, thinking about what Bill had told him earlier. He does want someone inside of him – someone special – someone like _Ron_. It strikes him that it is _Ron_ and that his daydreams are more than just dreams planted in his brain by two maniacal - genius but still maniacal - twins.  
  
He flops around on his stomach and hugs his pillow under him. He needs to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow, Bill gets married. Tomorrow will be the first day he will spend aware of his crush on Ron and the first day he will need to get over it. Ron fancies Hermione and Hermione fancies Ron and Harry would never come between that. That's all there is to it.  
  
He swears that he'll never think of Ron in that way again. Starting right after his supply of _Patented Daydream Charms_ runs out.  
  
 **Fin**


End file.
